silence
by maz2
Summary: A onechap dark VegetaBra fic. When Bulma dies, Bra finds herself in a bizarre situation, especially when Vegeta confuses Bra with her mother.. STOP IT! but he couldn't listen, he wasn't here.


~ Silence ~  
  
I was shocked at my reflection. I looked old. Not old old, not even as old as I had to look, but still.. I looked older than I have ever looked in my entire life. I looked like a twenty-thirty year old woman, and I would turn thirty-eight in a couple of months. But my saiyan genes made me age slower.   
  
But that wasn't what shocked me about my reflection. It was my mother. Mom seemed to be there, somewhere in the depths of the mirror, only different. I had always looked like my mother, my figure, my hair, eyes, hell even my character..  
  
But she was dead, and I was here, and she was here too, right there in the mirror, looking worriedly at me, even confused.  
  
"What's wrong?" passed my lips, and she mimicked my action.   
  
No answer, only silence.  
  
Trunks left Capsule Corp. saying that he needed some time alone. I know he can't cope with it, he always was Mom's little boy, and now that she was gone he had to grow up. No little boy anymore.   
  
I envy him. I wan't to leave too, but I can't. Dad.  
  
He was there, training in his little cage, keeping himself a prisoner. He had done that for the past week. Train. And nothing else, he didn't sleep, he didn't eat. He just trained.   
  
I know that it was him who was hurt the most. I could see it in his eyes, as I tried to talk with him, not that he would listen and stop training for even a second, but still, I could see it. They seemed darker than before, somewhat like a death star, exploded and absorbing all light, but there was nothing in there, nothing in there to reflect it back. A black whole not capable of understanding. His features stayed the same ever since last friday, his usual scowl with a smirk.  
  
It looked insane.   
  
But weren't we all insane?  
  
I needed Goten. He was my husband for almost twelve years now, and I loved him more than anything in the world. He went along with Trunks, taking the children with him. We had children, two to be exact and Goten is a great father.  
  
But I needed him here, with me. I had to feel his arms around me, hold me, and tell me that I am not insane.  
  
Would I believe him?  
  
It was time to try and talk with dad again. This had to stop.  
  
He was bruised, he looked.. broken. How could he even keep this training up?   
  
"Dad?"  
  
He continued to do his push ups, it was morning and he hadn't started his real training yet.  
  
"Daddy?"   
  
Nothing more than a side way glanse, I shivered as I looked in his dark, too dark, eyes.  
  
"Daddy!!!"  
  
This cought his attention, he turned to me, and snapped: "What?" His scowl and smirk again, like a scary mask trying to frighten you. What was wrong with him?  
  
I turned the gravity off, this could be my only chance to get him back to senses. He never even responded to my questions.. this seemed to be a good sign.  
  
"Brat, where did you do that for?"  
  
I wasn't brat, Trunks was brat. I was princess, or kid, not brat. His roughness felt like a slap in the face. And I could feel tears rolling over my cheeks. I hardly doubted that he could see them, he wasn't here.  
  
I was the one who got him so far to cut his hair, though that mustache was his own idea. I convinced him giving mom a valentine present and I convinced him going shopping with me. Wasn't I still his little girl?  
  
I managed to swallow back my tears.  
  
"We need to talk."  
  
"I have to train." And he went back doing his puch-ups, even though the gravity was still off.  
  
"Your not the only one who is hurt, dad!"  
  
"I need to train."  
  
"You didn't even come to her funeral."  
  
"I needed to train!" He barked with such loud voice, that I was slightly frightened.  
  
"You are not my father." I said before leaving. I don't know what caused me to say that, but he just wasn't the same anymore. He changed, we all changed.  
  
I could here him chuckle wickedly as I walked back inside. I walked past a picture of my mother in the hall, and stopped. His crazy laughter never fading away.  
  
My finger traced the outlines of her face. Tears still rolling.  
  
"Look what you did!" I said before dropping the photo on the ground, the glass shattered on the ground.  
  
Just as shattered as this family was.  
  
I spend the rest of the day in mom's warderobe. Mom had a great taste of fashion, and my attention went to the purple nightgown of hers. I remember her coming downstairs in it, I remember her wearing it when I was a kid. It even smelled like her, god I miss her.  
  
It fitted me perfectly. Would she be upset if I would wear her clothes?  
  
I could hear him, I could hear him cry. It's 2 a.m. and he went to his, their, bedroom to sleep. How can he sleep with a empty spot next to him?  
  
He isn't sleeping.  
  
Hne's crying. He never cries, but he is now, I can hear it. No sobs, but just the unstabiel rythm of his breathing.  
  
"Dad?" I whispered softly as I entered his room, wearing my mother's nightgown. "Are you okay?"  
  
He looked up at me, and his eyes weren't total black anymore, the death star seemed to reflect a sparkle of light. But just a sparkle, asif forgotten where he was.  
  
"Bulma?" he asked, and he stood up abruptly. His scowl and smirk for once changed, his expression confused.  
  
"No dad, it's me Bra, mom is go-"  
  
"I knew you'd come back." he interrupted me. Guilt spread over me, I shouldn't have put this on.  
  
"Dad, Bulma is gone." It pained me to say it.  
  
"I've missed you." he walked over to me and carrassed my cheek.  
  
"Dad, stop it, it's me Bra." I tried to look in his eyes, they were dim again, but there was still this sparkle. This insane sparkle, where was he?  
  
He didn't stop, instead he kissed me. I pulled away at once. Where was his mind? Damn, this is all my fault.  
  
"Dad, don't, I am not Bulma!" I was crying again. "Don't you remember me? I'm your daughter!"  
  
"Bulma." he leaded me to the bed. Hundreds of thoughts kreeping up in my head, Where is Goten? How is Trunks? How can I stop dad? What's wrong with him? and Did I feed the cat today?  
  
I know I was losing it.  
  
He tried to kiss me again, and I pushed away, powering up to Super Saiyan, running back to my room. They can feel my ki, so goddamn go and help me Goten!   
  
I never reached my room, suddenly I was pinned on their bed underneath my father again. He was a Ascended Super Saiyan, something I had never accomplished. I wish I had trained more. The way he was powering up, was like unconscious, senseless, not here.  
  
Two ki's, mine and dad's.. they must have thought I was training. Just perfect, just FREAKING perfect! I am not training, Goten!  
  
His hands were over my body again, and I screamed, I yelled, I struggled.  
  
But he was stronger, and we were 'training' and I was helpless.  
  
"Dad!" I exclaimed once again, trying desperately to prevent him from using me. Because that is what he was doing, using me for a flashback, maybe an illusion. I knew it wouldn't work, I couldn't reach him. "STOP IT!" was in vain.  
  
I couldn't stop him. He couldn't stop. He wasn't here.  
  
It was morning. I tried to struggle out of his embrace all night, but it didn't work, his strong arms were around me, and even though he had powered down to Super Saiyan and I had totally powered down, no spark of energy left in my body, I couldn't get away. He was still asleep.  
  
I started to cry softly, my shoulders shocking with every sob. But I didn't want to wake him.  
  
I didn't want to see him realize what he had done, I would rather forget all about it. If I could only get back in my room unnoticed..  
  
I tried again, slowly not wanting to wake him. And I managed to get out of his embrace, with a lot of powering up. But when I tried to get up, he got me again, unconscious keeping me prisoned.  
  
I cried franticly, I cried myself into sleep.  
  
"Bulma?"   
  
I slowly opened my eyes, and knew he was awake. I didn't want to turn around, I didn't want to shatter his dream. I don't want to be in this fucking situation.  
  
"Bulm-" damn, he figured it out.. "B-bra?"  
  
I looked up, not knowing what else to do, just lay there and act dumb?  
  
I could see that he was in shock, and in shame, and that he was guilty, and that he was here.  
  
And only by the look of his eyes, I already forgave him.  
  
"Bra.. " his voice didn't seem as his. "I'm sorry." he started crying, and I embraced him.   
  
"It's okay dad." I could hear myself say, and briefly wondered if I was here. "It's all over now."  
  
We both cried into eachother arms.  
  
I found myself walking in the hall again, showered and dressed. I looked into the mirror once again and I felt clean and myself, dispite everything that happened last night. I know he couldn't ever forgive himself, but I forgive him.  
  
Something cracked underneath my shoe, it was the glass of the shattered picture of mom.   
  
I stared at the other pieced of glass, and slowly turned the picture around.  
  
"I really miss you, mom."  
  
Our family wasn't shattered, as I had put it yesterday.   
  
Our family was just broken.  
  
I heard a soft chuckle and I turned around, nothing. I looked back at my reflection, and I saw myself chuckle, I brought my hand to my throath, feeling it move, I realized it was really me.  
  
It sounded like mom.  
  
I immediately stopped.  
  
But only in silence things are over for good. 


End file.
